We Found Love
by CrimsonJoy
Summary: People sometimes tell of a changing point in your life, one event that will forever change who you are, how you think. This is my story. How from one simple day, my life was thrown into chaos. One Shot. M for a reason. Warnings inside.


**A/N… this is dark. This is very, very dark. Nothing left to be said, you have been warned!**

**But just in case… Warning; To those who already know of my strange, strange ways, this fic will not shock you, to those new to me… just leave now, unless you have a hard stomach and want to test it. This fic is the lovechild of several hours of horror movies and TV shows that should never have existed, so have fun and enjoy this monstrosity!**

People sometimes tell of a changing point in your life, one event that will forever change who you are, how you think.

It's never expected, it creeps up on you from out of the blue. It could happen to you today, it could happen tomorrow, it could happen in twenty years, but it will undoubtedly occur.

This is my story. How from one simple day, my life was thrown into chaos.

Some may ask how something like this could happen in this day of age, but I can't answer then. Even after going through something like this myself, I still can't comprehend the way some people's minds work. How sick people can be.

But you're not here to learn about my outlooks on my previous situation, you're here to hear my story, how I fell into such a strange, unfamiliar world, and how I met her.

I know you can't see me, but I always smile when I think of her. Such perfection in one simple soul, it even startled me when I first met her. I'm not going to lie and say we were head over heels for each other the moment our eyes met. No, honestly, we fought like crazy for the first week or so. I say 'or so' because we had lost count of the days, so matter how much we tried to keep up with our marks on the walls. The lack of sunlight gave us no indication of passing days.

But we had good reason to fight. In the situation we were in, no one could blame us. Forced together by a twist of fate, with no way of knowing if death was around the corner, we had every reason to fight.

Added to that, we were complete opposites. I learned later that that was the reason we were put together, because of our differences, we were sure to be more fun to watch, to observe like animals in an enclose, rattling at our confinements as we desperately tried to escape.

But I did fall. I fell hard. As did she. Maybe it was the lack of other human contact. Maybe it was the comfort we gave each other night after night. Either way, we needed each other, more than the sunlight we had lost.

God, how to explain our situation… It's a lot harder than I expected it to be.

I guess I should start from the start, give you some chance to keep up with this. I didn't know her back then, but I was happy never the less.

I don't know why I was chosen. I was never told, I think it was pure chance more than anything. Maybe it was because I had no strings attached to me, no family, few friends, and no partner. No one would realise if I disappeared for a week or so, and that's all that was needed.

I was walking home from the local grocery shop when I first saw him. A tall man, with a balding head and a constant, though freaky smile. His beer belly spilled over his belt, and his stained white wife-beater left him with a warning look. Everything about him should have made me nervous, conscious of his nearness. But no, I didn't catch on till it was much too late. I could have saved myself so much pain, so much suffering, but I would have left her alone in it. The thought alone of that beautiful soul going through everything alone leaves me gagging.

Anyway, I'm falling off track. I was on the street when he approached me. I felt his presence following me through the streets of Lima, Ohio, like a lingering raincloud that you just couldn't shake it off. His footsteps thundered off the path behind me, making me own dainty steps sound like a mouse.

It was early, and I was tired. My senses were dulled and my mind was not functioning properly. If it was, I would have run when I heard the footsteps follow me down into a narrow alleyway that led to my home. But I didn't.

I felt the hand close around my mouth and my eyes widened in fear. Finally I was awake, a little too late though. My long legs kicked out at my silent attacker as my screams were silenced by his huge hand. I bit down, but he didn't even seem to feel it. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I pushed myself towards him, startling him by this new try at escape.

I broke free from his iron like arms and moved to run forwards. I screamed for help, my head whipping around hoping to spot a wandering body at the early hour. Again, I opened my mouth to scream, but I was silenced by the low grunt behind me.

I whipped my head around to get a look at the man, and was met with something colliding with the top of my head, just below my hairline. I let out a breath in shock as I felt the crimson blood flow from my head.

I groaned and moved to clutch my pounding head, blood leaking through my fingers and staining my shirt. I spat out a few drops of the rusty liquid that had leaked into my mouth in disgust.

Before I knew it, I could feel myself becoming dizzy. My legs collapsed from under me and my eyes closed, enveloping me in darkness.

Xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

I woke up in a dark room. I didn't know what was happening, or where I was. I couldn't see, all that was there was a slowly blinking red light on the roof. I could smell blood, and my face was covered in the dry metallic substance. Faintly, I could hear someone else, in another room, screaming abuse and insults at my nameless captor.

Something heavy was wrapped around my neck, dragging me down towards the bed. It could feel it hanging there; restricting my moments and making me feel claustrophobic.

I groaned and pulled myself into a sitting position. I could tell I was sitting on a bed or something like one at least. I rubbed my eyes, scratching away as much dried blood as I could as I did so. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark and I could see the basics of the room I woke up in.

The bed I sat on was in the far corner of the room; across the room was a door, black like the walls but glossy to help it stand out. Beside the bed was a small table, with a drawer and a cabinet. A toilet was in the corner of the room, just a toilet, nothing else. I stood up and stretched my arms and legs, glancing around the room once again as I willed myself not to panic.

Thankful for my naturally calm disposition, I surveyed my surroundings, looking for a non-existent door handle, or some window at least. I needed to see the sky, fresh air, clouds. I had always looked up into the blue for guidance when I was scared or worried.

But not this time. I was alone. In a semi-dark room. Nothing but the mysterious collar and the lazily flashing LED for comfort. I forced myself to stay calm, tricked myself into thinking I was having a nightmare, while inside I was screaming, clawing at the dark walls in desperation as I echoed the calls of the second person trapped in the building.

I had no idea what was happening. I just knew that I was in the dark, and I was scared. I wanted someone, anyone to save me. I wanted that bitch in the other room to shut up and let me at least try to relax without her screams piercing me like daggers.

Her terror rang through much more than y silence ever could. I could sense her fear, in the way her yelled her insults, her voice shaking ever so slightly as she struggled not to cry. I always had had a knack for reading people, and this stranger, who I couldn't even see, was easy for me to read. She felt what I did. Pure and utter terror.

The fact that the second woman was a female made it all the worse. There was a good chance that we were brought here so that man could-

I didn't let myself finish my thought. I just wouldn't. It was too much for my already disturbed mind to take on. And I wouldn't let myself break down this quickly. I was stronger than that.

So, instead of following my instincts of throwing myself into the wall, I sat back down on the bed and set to work cleaning off my face.

Xoxoxoxoxoxxo

Two sleeps later, I could feel myself becoming weak. I hadn't eaten or drank anything, and my sleep had been plagued by nightmares.

My fellow captive had stopped her screaming somewhere during the second day, her voice hoarse and weak as my own must be. I hadn't spoken since I had been taken, I didn't need to, there was no one there besides myself.

But I could tell that being so alone was bad for me. Even when I wasn't confined to a small black space, I had had some form of a social life. And I was beginning to miss the freedom. Strike that, I desperately longed for the freedom since day one. But I didn't let it show, instead letting it build up inside me, eating me alive from deep inside me.

As the days passed, other screams added to the one from before. All female. Their yells for help ripped through me, shredding my insides as they did so, filling me with a living, burning terror.

One was shrill, an obviously well trained voice. She held her screams for as long as she could, and I could often here her singing herself to sleep. She didn't shout insults or use 'bad words', she kept her wailing to 'help me's and 'please's. It was a nice change, and her singing was comforting in such a dark place.

The second 'newbie' was pretty quiet in comparison to the other two. Not as quite as me, but she seemed to keep her panic to herself. The only time I had heard her was when she was brought in, kicking and screaming, and when she was begging for food. She seemed like she was plotting or something, though I couldn't see her, I had a feeling she was a leader at heart.

But the negatives outweighed the positives. They may be comforting voices or beacons of hope for now, but for later… who knew what was in store for us.

I often wonder if they knew of my existence. They hadn't heard me, and I wasn't sure if I had arrived before or after the original screamer. If I was in fact, after, I'm sure she would had heard our captor throwing me down on the creaky bed springs and dead bolting the door, as he had the last two. But if not, they were oblivious to my company.

I didn't really care if they knew about me or not, I didn't even know what was happening really. The days were already beginning to blur together, the tallies on my wall, useless.

It was this day when I got my first taste of 'prison food', as it was later dubbed. Rubbery in texture, it was indigestible to my timid stomach, but I ate it anyway. I needed food. I was too weak to stay awake nowadays, I just slept constantly. And I knew I was slowly slipping away into darkness.

And so I ate the mystery food. I wasn't sure if it was meat or vegetables or tofu, it could really have been anything, but I didn't care at this point, I just wanted food. Of any kind.

I could hear abuse being shouted by my neighbour at the lousy excuse for a meal, and I ignored the string of Spanish that quickly followed the girl's outburst. This happened often with this girl. Always cursing away to herself in a different tongue to what the rest of us could understand. I found it strangely entertaining, listening to her grumble to herself, it made me smile. Then again, it was the only entertainment I had.

I think the food must have been drugged, or I was just exhausted after eating for the first time in days, but I was asleep as soon as I had eaten the last bite, my head falling onto the hard pillow and I was out like a light.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

When I woke from my sleep, once again, I was in a different location. Lit by several florescent lights that flickered every so often, the dark, stained walls of the giant warehouse-like room gave me a bad feeling in my stomach. The floor I lay on was clean, but not enough to be sanitary, and it made me want to spring to my feet immediately. I was lying on my stomach, my head turned to the side to give me a view of the wall.

I could hear groaning and grumbling, but I wasn't ready to turn and face the other occupants of the room, instead staring at a small spider scuttling across the floor in from of my face. I shivered at the way it moved, its sleek black legs moving so gracefully across the floor. It was at home in this dark, damp place. I, on the other hand, was not.

I slowly tried to pull myself up, to get my bearings, but my hands were bound behind my back and I found it difficult. Cussing was heard once again from behind me, and I rolled my eyes at the Spanish accent. As usual, she was pissed.

Slowly, and with much difficulty, I rolled onto my back and onto my other side, trying to get a look at my fellow captives. Right in front of me was a blonde woman, wearing a simple cardigan and jeans. Her back was facing me, and her hands were tired similarly to my own. Her loose hair hung down in slight tangles, knotted from being unwashed in such conditions.

I wished she would true around so I could see her face. I needed to see a friendly face, all of a sudden, the need was fierce.

As if reading my mind, Blonde Girl rolled over to face me, her light hazel eyes, almost golden, taking me in for the first time. My own followed her lead, scanning her. She seemed quite innocent, but I wasn't sure, she had a certain aura around her that reeked of something different, something that told me she was much more than your normal good girl.

"Hey," I remember her voice that day, as if it were only yesterday. Smooth, like silk, so comforting, like that of a mother comforting her child. I smiled at her, unsure of what to say, unsure if I had the power in me to speak at all.

She smiled back weakly, her eye twinkling at me, despite the situation of our meeting. "I'm Quinn." She said, her voice once again comforting me. I drew a breath and readied my unused voice for work.

"Brittany." I choked out, smiling at Quinn, who was struggling weakly against the bonds that held her pale skin in place. The shorter girl smiled at me, before craning her neck behind her and looking at the cussing girl lying behind her.

"Hey!" she said, as the Latina whipped her head up to glare at her. Quinn rolled her light eyes at the pointless aggression. "What's your name?"

The brunette let out a string of curses in Spanish as my eyebrows, along with Quinn's, disappeared into our hairlines. "Well?" Quinn spoke up again, getting the foreign girl's attention. The tanned girl scoffed.

"I'm Santana. But why does it matter? We're gonna fucking die here anyway!"

Quinn huffed at the Hispanic's optimism and once again tried to look over Santana to the last girl, who had been watching with little to no interest until now.

My eyes remained on Santana, however. She struggled like a woman deranged against the ropes that held her, twisting and withering on the floor like a snake, her face scrunched up in concentration. Her dark brown eyes whipped around the room, not resting on anything for more than a spilt second, if not less.

Her naturally tanned skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat and her white t-shirt and sweats told me she was doing something similar to me when she was taken, probably early in the morning too. Her hair was free, falling around her face in waves, not at all harmed by our surroundings, which fascinated me.

The metal collar around her neck, the same as mine, and now that I think about it, Quinn's, wrapped tightly around the tender skin, marring her perfection. I know that this really shouldn't have been the thing to think when you're tied up on the floor in a warehouse by some man with three other girls', but she was hot.

I shifted my attention to the last girl. Also a brunette, I could tell that this was the singer from before, just by looking at her. There was no way in heaven or hell that girl would cuss, just forget it. Wearing a thick sweater with a rabbit on the front and a plaid skirt, I could already tell that she was strange.

"Hello, my name is Rachel Berry, recent graduate of NYADA and aiming for a show on Broadway." I raised an eyebrow at the introduction but said nothing. Honestly, I thought it was best that I didn't. Santana, still rolling around trying to free herself, snorted slightly, but covered it off with a strong of fake coughing.

Rachel's dark eyes were filled with unmasked, raw fear. She was truly terrified, but was keeping it hidden from the rest of us. She didn't struggle against what held her, she just seemed to take it as it was, and wait for release.

Already, I could tell we were all as different as they come. No real personality traits linked us together, with Rachel; a loud mouth Broadway singer, Santana; fighter, Quinn; secret leader and me; well, me.

There was nothing between us that was similar, except that we had all been chosen, by him.

Then, before I could even comprehend the events happening, he was there, standing above us, a grin plastered over his face and a hand hidden behind his back. Immediately, Santana struggled harder, hissing to add more to her description of a snake. The man laughed, his beer belly jiggling.

"So, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here…" Santana and Quinn opened their mouths to speak but he held up a hand and withdrew a simple kitchen knife from behind his back in the other. The duo snapped their mouths shut, getting the message loud and clear.

"Now girls, let me finish first." He smiled, showing his yellowed, crooked teeth. "I'm hosting a little show. Starring, you guessed it, you girls." He grinned, as if he had somehow struck gold with his random idea.

When he got no responses from us, he huffed. "Fine, I'll explain in more detail for you all. I have come up with a little survival show I want to put on the air, but it seemed a bit too much for the television networks and they shut me down." He gestured with his hands for more attention, as he noticed Santana beginning to get bored, waving the knife around.

"And that's where you all come in." He smiled, and I felt my blood run cold. Survival show would mean it was dangerous, life threatening. "I'm going to lock you in a room, two to each one, and see how long you can live. You complete various tasks, and/or jobs to get food and water. If you don't, you go hungry."

"So, basically, we're your fucking slaves, right?" Santana spat, venom coating her lips as she ground her teeth in anger. I felt the girl's mood change, from angry to furious. Quickly, I became scared of Santana.

The man nodded. "Exactly, except, if you don't do the work, your dead and left to rot here." Suddenly the man blinked as he stared Santana down, as if scolding a dog. "Oh, ya, and those collars. Their shock collars, so be good, ok?"

My eye widened at this new information and I felt sick. We were completely at his mercy, and I knew it.

"Wait," I heard Quinn speak up and blinked to focus my eyes on her. "This still isn't a TV show. What's the point?" I praised God for her smart thinking and looked to the man for an answer.

Our captive laughed slightly. "Oh, it is. I have cameras installed in all the rooms, and every day at six, I can override all the other signals and broadcast you four live on the TV, every channel. Brilliant, right?" He grinned at his own idea, seeming very excited for this to begin.

"Sick bastard!" Santana hissed a mix between out loud and under her breath, but loud enough for us all too here in the echo filled room.

The man sighed. "I guess you guys don't believe me when I say shock collar." As soon as the words left his mouth, Santana cried out in pain, gripping her neck as her body convulsed. Quinn and Rachel yelped at the surprise and shuffled to her, while I remained quiet, staring down the man. My eyes were hard, as anger I had never felt before burned through me like lava.

If you tell anyone I'll deny it, but a sound not unlike a snarl rose on my throat at that moment, a warning to the man that imprisoned us. But as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and Santana lay panting on the ground, silent and exhausted.

"Well there you go." He said, putting the small controller labelled '1' back into his pocket. "The power of the collar. It can even shut up dirty bitches like you."

He said it in such a way, such a quite manner, it made my blood boil. And by Quinn's and Rachel's furious expressions, they felt the same way. Santana remained on the floor, thoroughly worn out, her eye lids drooping as she fought to keep herself conscious, her body jumping ever so often from the aftershocks.

Noticing this, our kidnapper huffed and brought his story to an end. "Filming begins tomorrow, though you won't even notice. Smile for the cameras. Goodnight." And with that, I felt something collide with my head once again, and I knew no more.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

When I woke again, I was once again in a different room. Black like the first one, the only change in this one was the size. It was slightly bigger than my original 'cell', and contained a small double bed, which I lay on, curled up into a ball.

I could feel my new roommate moving beside me, awake and breathing heavily. The girl wasn't giving anything away with her range of breaths, it was slow and steady, relaxing me and letting me daydream my way out of here.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it wasn't, but I knew how it would be if I freaked, I would have been screaming my head off, tearing the walls down as I escaped that hellhole, or at least just break all my nails trying.

I swallowed and felt my collar tight around my neck, making my mind wander back to Santana's pained expression as the electricity flowed through her small body. I shivered at the sight of such power over another person, it was horrible.

The flashing red light in the corner caught my eyes, it must be the camera, and anger struck my system. Why would a person want to do this? What was the point? Breaking laws, kidnapping, all just to hack into TV circuits and show us starving to death to the people at home.

"I know you're awake."

I started at the voice coming from behind me and dragged myself up. I turned to see Santana sitting behind me, an annoyed smirk on her face. I smiled weakly at her, but said nothing, because she made me nervous, one wrong word and I knew she would pounce on me. And defiantly not in the good way. She was royally pissed off and warning me not to get in her way.

"Hi Santana," I choked out, scared her dark eyes that seemed to stare into my soul, discovering every well-kept secret I had, every whim I had tried out. "Guess we're… roommates?"

She had smiled at me then, her pointed white teeth glinting in the dark room. "Ya… so Brittany, right?"

I nodded and smiled back, her own smile proving infectious. She jumped off the bed and stretched, her top riding up to show her well-developed abdominal muscles. I felt my breathing catch in my throat, but she didn't hear, at least I don't think she did. But I knew right there what I was in for.

I was locked in a small room, with a beautiful Latina and no ways of getting out. Just us, alone… well if you don't count the millions of people who would watch us a six that evening. But really, I didn't. I never really was one for embarrassment over such things.

I snapped out of my haze when Santana seemed to run out of productive things to do, and sat back down on the bed, with some distance between us, letting out a huff and resting her head in her hands, her slender fingers in her cheeks.

"So… um," I was so awkward, it was so quiet, and there was nothing to say. "If we're going to be together for a while, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Santana scoffed at my lame attempt at speaking to her, but went along with it, boredom setting in. "Hmmm, well, I'm twenty and I'm the middle of recording my album. I live in New York, but I came home for my… grandmother's funeral, and so here I am."

I smiled at her and she continued with a shrug. "What about you?"

"Twenty, dancer at a school near Lima. I live here, I moved about a year ago." I smiled at her and relaxed. Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Until the next day when Santana had already decided she was constantly angry, and she would take it out on me. Every day, screaming at our captor for about an hour, before sulking for a while and yelling at me.

Everything I did made the girl madder. Sleeping, eating, even when I just sat there bored. I just didn't get along with her. That first day was forgotten, long gone from this world. The sweet, kind-ish Santana was gone, replaced by the snake, poised and ready to strike.

That was when the 'games' began. I don't know why it was now that he began to do this, but this is what brought us together. The first wasn't too bad, and so I guess I'll start at the start.

"Okay girls," the voice rang out through our room, through speakers we didn't even know existed. "Today is the first day I put you to the test." I met Santana's eyes for a split second through my light eyelashes, as saw she was just a nervous as me, scratching at her collar as she listened, a scared habit she had developed over time.

"I will test your limits and your fears, and see how hard you will fight for life." He chuckled over the speaker. "Good luck ladies, and have fun!"

The voice cut off, and, after a small amount of static, we were left in silence. I looked to Santana for guidance, but she was of no help, as she was sitting on the bed, Indian style, with her eyes closed and her breathing slow and even.

I followed her lead and my breath slowly fell into sync with hers. But I kept my eyes open, trained on her. Maybe we fought, but she was still the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes upon and my only company.

As quickly as I began to relax, my calm was torn from me by an ear splitting scream. Both Santana and I turned our heads towards the source of the sound, our eyes wide and our hands gripping the sheets in panic. It was Rachel's scream.

Once again, the scream tore through us, and I grabbed the Santana's hand in fear, surprised when she didn't pull away. I met her eyes, and she didn't look away, her nearly black eyes were deep and dark, brimming with tears and showing who she truly was. A young woman, scared and confused, in desperate need of comfort.

I smiled weakly at her and took a deep breath to relax myself, awaiting the trial. Santana echoed me.

The door slid open, only a crack, but enough to let in a stream of light, blinding our sensitive eyes. I wasn't sure what happened, but as quickly as it had appeared, the light was gone, and we were in the dark, our eyes clouded and impaired.

We waited in silence, our breathing the only sound in our room, our clasped hands shaking while we awaited the task. My breathing was even, synced with Santana's.

"Brittany?" I heard Santana's shaky voice ringing through the darkness, "Tell me that's your hand on my leg."

I swallowed. "No…"

I heard Santana's breathing speed up and her hand twitch in mine, holding tighter, enough to hurt me. But I allowed it, her fear radiating against my own. I couldn't have anyone scared, not even Santana.

Then, I felt her fear. Something on my heel, moving slowly up my leg, its slow pace doing nothing for my fast growing terror. "Santana!" I yelped, holding her hand tighter, just as she did the same. "I'm scared."

"I know, Britt, me too." I didn't even have time to register my new nickname, as I felt another tickling object crawl onto my back. I gasped and froze, the muscles in my back strained and tensed in panic. I couldn't breathe, couldn't even move to hit the mystery objects away.

My eyes were wide and slowly adjusting back to the light. A part of me begged my eyes to let me remain oblivious to the creatures crawling all over me by now, but my body was against me. From what I could hear, Santana was already well aware of what was in the room with us.

Her breathing was laboured and she couldn't seem to stay still, her body restless as she whimpered and cringed away from them.

"San?" I asked, loving the sound of the nickname, but snapping myself back into the situation quickly, "What are they?"

Santana whimpered. "Spiders…" I breathed out in relief, the weight gone from my chest, but she wasn't finished. "Big spiders." She winced. "Biting spiders."

I swallowed and closed my eyes, licking my lips. I, luckily, had never had been scared of spiders; they just didn't bother me like they did others. But Santana, on the other hand, was terrified, and wasn't afraid to show it.

Yelping and jumping with every passing second, Santana was freaking the fuck out, not hiding a thing. She sat on the bed, as close to me as she could be without melding herself into me, her small body shaking. I resisted the urge to comfort her, hug her, this wasn't the situation. Well, that and I was still kinda scared of her.

I was glad for my calm demeanour that moment, glad that I too, wasn't panicking. That I was there to help this beautiful girl; who was by now full on crying into my shoulder. Santana whimpered and I blinked, trying to refocus my eyes as to help her more than I was.

Slowly, painfully so, the room began to come back to me. I could see the faint outline of mine and Santana's bodies, and the smaller, black shapes that coated us. They swarmed out legs like a sea, and the odd one had been brave enough to crawl up our chests.

Santana was like lighting, brushing them off with amazing speed, if anything only scaring our new roommates more. I grabbed her hand to steady her, meeting her eyes for a second with a hard look. She seemed to understand me, and stopped moving, choked sobs still escaping her from time to time.

I held her in place, shushing her as much as I could without scaring her, or the spiders, more.

"Shhhh, Santana," I cooed to the shaking girl, prompting her to bury her head in my neck, "It's okay, they're just spiders," she whimpered at my words. "They're more scared of you than you are of them…"

Santana chuckled at my words, but seemed to relax slightly more. I smiled in accomplishment and took in a deep breath.

Growing bored of us, the bugs seemed to thin out, much to Santana's pleasure. I still have no idea where those spiders went, but I'm just glad that they did. There must have been some hole or door to a room that housed flies or something, but before I even knew it, only about five or six remained, and they were on the floor, just hanging around.

Santana was still whimpering, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Santana?" I asked, my voice quiet and as soothing as I could make it with my severe dry throat from lack of water. "San, the spiders are gone," I thought for a second, "Just don't get off the bed."

Santana, very slowly, began to loosen her death grip around my neck, her sharp nails retracting from my skin and the heat of her breath disappearing from the sensitive skin on my neck. I sighed at the loss of warmth in the damp environment, but the pout was wiped from my face when she met my eyes, a smile gracing her perfect features.

"Thank you Brittany," she whispered, her voice barely there, but still a response. I grinned the biggest I had in weeks and lunged in for a hug, wrapping the surprised girl up in my arms. I heard her huff in defeat and hug me back, my excitement rising through the roof.

Santana, unknown to me at the time, loved this as much as I did. She loved the feeling of another person near her, holding her and shielding her from her fears. And so neither of us let go.

We spent the night like that, holding each other, saving each other form the realness of the situation, until we fell asleep together on the threadbare bed.

Time became more bearable after that. Santana lost her claws, and began to relax around me. I think she must have finally realised that we were in this together, whether she wanted to be or not. And that was the beginning of our friendship.

Okay, so I'll be the first to admit that our 'friendship' moved to fast to be normal, but we were all we had, so we moved fast. Within two sleeps, I knew everything about her.

Her fear of bugs, all of them, her love of the dark and her spitfire personality, her last girlfriend (yes I freaked out at that, I'll admit it) that she broke up with a week before this all happened. She had been kicked out a young age after coming out, and she wasn't happy to be back to say her final goodbyes to her Grandmother, though she'll never get to do it.

I made her stop after that and hugged her tightly. She was so sure we would die in there, alone and without comfort, and I was determined to chase away those thoughts. I needed to think we would be okay, my mind wouldn't function unless I did, I was going to be here for Santana, not matter what.

We were given food for those two sleeps, after winning the challenge. Santana was the one to give it its nickname of 'prison food', as she said it reminded her of the very stuff. She had spent her fair share of time in juvie as a teenager, caught drinking and speeding.

It caught on quickly, and the rubbery substance was renamed. I found it funny that we could laugh about something like this, while wearing shock collars in the middle of a black room in an unknown location. But there was something about Santana, I felt as if I could relax completely around her. I couldn't even understand my feelings for her, but that's what I felt, still feel.

Eventually, I got Santana to stop yelling curses at our kidnapper. Okay, so maybe I held her down against her will and wouldn't let her up until she promised to let me sleep and stop screaming, but I like to think I persuaded her.

Things were going okay between us, but that didn't change that we were in no situation to build friendships.

We often talked about Rachel and Quinn, wondered how they were getting along, and how they were handling everything. Santana liked to joke about them, that Quinn had probably murdered her roommate to stop 'the dwarf' from singing her showtunes. Though it entertained me slightly, I scolded my cellmate for being so… entertaining. She saw right through me though. She had a bad habit of doing that.

More often, we talked of home. Did our loved ones watch us on TV? If so, what did they say? Where they desperately trying to get us home, or were they suffering in silence as the Police did the investigation?

I was hard for Santana to speak about her family. She was so sure that they didn't care that she was here, so positive that no one was looking for her, that no one cared that she was here, that it often moved me to tears. And it was hard to hide tears in a single room with nothing to hide behind.

Second task. This was where shit got real, and by real, I mean scary. I remember that day, as if it were yesterday. It is permanently etched into my mind, scarring me. This made this real for me and Santana, this is where I think we both realised that this was a sick man holding us, and that we had no choice in what we did anymore.

I remember waking up late, as Santana was already up. She was scratching a line into the wall with her belt buckle, keeping tally of our sleeps. That was our form of a calendar, it kept track of the days passing, or what we assumed were days passing.

I had thrown my legs over the side of the bed, my stomach rumbling as I pulled myself to my feet and wandered over to Santana. Sensing me nearing her, Santana looked up, smiling in greeting, before going back to counting the days. Eight days.

I sighed and leaned into the smaller girl, my head falling onto her shoulder as I yawned. Santana's smile widened as her arm slithered around my waist, holding me tightly. My breathing synced with hers in an instant and I relaxed into her. Comfort, that is what we gave each other.

"I wonder is 'Faberry' does this..?" Santana questioned the air, getting a chuckle from me in response. I loved the little mash up names she comes up for people. She claims it's because she's too lazy to say their names in full, but I think it's cute. And she knows it.

"Something makes me think not," I said, my smile coming through in my voice. Santana shrugged and pulled us to our feet, surprising me with her strength. With all this shitty food, you'd think she'd be weaker, but no.

"Santana! Stop it!" I yelped as she picked me straight off my feet and spun me around. She laughed along with me and set me down, but the momentum sent up flying onto the bed. The breath was knocked out of me by the force, and Santana grunted on impact.

I chuckled. "That was your fault…" I trailed off, my vice teasing as I waited for her to strike.

I didn't even hear it; there was no warning at all. Suddenly, she was upon me, her legs on either side of my waist and her hands pinning my own down on the blanket. I yelp and squirmed, kicked out at the unmovable girl above me.

"What was my fault Britt-Britt?" Santana cooed out the words as she released one of my hands, only to pin it with her knee. I licked my lips and swallowed, eyeing her free hand. I was in for it now.

"Well?" I smiled to apologise to Santana, wriggling my body in a last attempt to free myself, but it was useless.

Santana attached, her hand flying to my sensitive stomach and tickling quickly. My breath caught as I tried to laugh, desperately trashing to throw her off me. She just laughed at my efforts and set to work making me laugh.

Her quick fingers worked their way over my body, over my abs, arms and neck, all my ticklish spots, as if she already knew them. I cried out and curled up as best as I could with the small girl on top of me as I tried to shield myself from her onslaught.

With a sudden burst of strength, I rolled us over, quickly pinning her hands over her head and holding her down. "Okay, okay, Britt! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! Please, don't!" I cut off Santana's words with a small smile.

I dragged my fingers down her stomach, and back up again, suddenly feeling her muscles twitch and tighten under my touch. Quickly, the mood changed.

Santana's dark eyes were focused on me, never wavering, never blinking. She had stopped struggling under me and her body was limp. Her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips as a reflex, and my breathing caught.

As I have said before, maybe it was the lack of other human contact, maybe it was the situation, maybe it was that I was just horny, but my lips met hers in that second.

It was just like in the movies. Fireworks erupted behind my eyelids as my lips massaged hers. I freed her hands and they snaked up to my hips, gripping tightly. She deepened the kiss, opening her mouth to let my tongue in.

I moaned and rolled my hips against her. "Santana…" I groaned, breaking the kiss for a second before meeting her lips once again, harder. Santana echoed my groan and arched her back into me, her hands beginning to wander.

My panties flooded and I gasped. Santana took the opportunity to kiss down my neck, nibbling on my pale skin with her sharp teeth. My breathing was laboured as she kissed me, her need overwhelming me like flames, licking my skin and surrounding us in heat.

But our moment was ruined by the arrival of static. Santana broke the kiss and whipped her head around in panic. Her chest was rising and falling quickly against mine as fear crept into the room, slowly yet building to amazing heights.

As the static cleared and the voice became clear, my heart skipped a few beats. I was worried. I had gotten away with the last one, but this was different. This was real.

I dropped next to Santana and we sat up in sync, ready for whatever would enter our room. Suddenly, the voice sounded. "Good afternoon girls. Well done, you guys are doing great, but here is your second challenge." Santana and I sat in silence, awaiting our fate.

"If you look into the drawer next to your bed, there will be a small blade of some sort," Santana opened our bedside cabinet and gasped a little dramatically, pulling out a small kitchen knife for me to see. I swallowed in fear.

"In a moment, a small animal will be released into your room." I let out a shaky breath, "I think you know what to do. Because it's that or you starve. Enjoy."

Santana griped the handle of the knife tightly, her knuckles almost white with force. I kept my eyes on the bed sheets, glancing up at her every few seconds. Both of us knew what was coming, but neither had the strength to say it aloud.

Santana growled and her arm twitched. She was angry again. I sighed and leaned over to her, worried that she might do something with that blade. She snatched her hand away from me with force.

"Stop Britt." She hissed through clenched teeth. "I'll do this one."

My eyes were wide as I took her in. Her teeth bared in what could have been a smile or a snarl, her slightly wild hair, her insane eyes. She could do this, but I was worried about her. This could scar her, I couldn't let that happen.

Just like before, the door was opened and we were blinded. I closed my eyes on instinct and was quickly glad that I did. Santana hissed, and I could hear her mutter to herself in a foreign tongue. I smiled slightly at the words, wishing I could understand, before remembering where were, and what Santana was about to do.

Instantly, we were plunged back into darkness. I grabbed Santana's wrist to keep her in place. Not only could it scar her emotionally if she brutally murdered an animal, we didn't know what it was yet, it could scar her on the outside, or even kill her.

Santana, as if reading my mind, huffed in acceptance and relaxed under my touch. I smiled weakly in her general direction and lessened my grip, just a small bit.

"Britt…" Santana's voice was weak, nervous even. I whipped my head to face her, beginning to see her outline in the dark once again.

"Ya?"

"You kissed me…" I almost laughed at her words. Really? She chose that moment, of any other, to bring that up.

"I think you kissed me." I heard more than saw her frown. "Well, I'm not even sure, but I still think it was you that brought it on. Straddling me like that… you were too hot not to kiss."

She chuckled lightly and I mentally patted myself on the back. Job well done.

But my happy moment faded as Santana's hand disappeared, breaking my grip while I was unsuspecting. I drew a breath in panic and moved to catch the girl but I was too late. I heard a yelp, a gurgle, and silence.

That was it. That was the second trial. I still don't know what was in the room with us, but as soon as it fell, Santana was back in my arms, her whole body shaking and her fingers tight on the knife handle.

We fell asleep quickly that night. It must have been the stress of the day, or something in our food, but we fell asleep too quickly to even look at the body. It was gone in the morning, as was the knife.

When we woke, Santana complained about the stain on her shirt, deep crimson that had inked itself deep into the fabric as we slept. But I knew she didn't care. I saw it in her eyes. She hated that she had done that, it made her sick to think that she had robbed a life to satisfy the want of an insane bastard that held us captive.

I think that was when things started to change again. Santana seemed to lose herself, her sense of right and wrong was terminally damaged. I spent some days worried for her, others scared of her, but most days, under her.

Santana got over the whole kiss issue quickly, instead choosing to test my limits. Unknown to her, I had none.

Fuck, now that I think about it, we made about a million porn videos for the world to watch while they ate dinner. Nice. Classy.

But, added to Santana's sudden animosity, this made life rough for me. I fell into a cycle; wake up, sex, eat, sex, do nothing, sex, sleep. I kinda liked that cycle though, it was awesome. And Santana was a fucking animal in bed… and on the floor, on the wall, over the table, well you get the point.

It took it out of me though. Fuck that was tiring. But I was still worried for Santana. She barely spoke anymore, and when she did, it was simple sentences. We never had fun, flirty little conversations anymore; she seemed broken inside, the light gone from her beautiful dark eyes.

And so, in my spare time, which I still had plenty of; I set to work fixing my new lover.

I did everything, and I'm pretty sure she began to worry about me more than I did about her, I'm certain that I looked like a madwoman. I joked, I laughed, I danced and I sang.

She loved that. Santana would always grin when I sang to her. It didn't even need to be a song, it could have been gibberish and she would be perfectly happy with it. And sometimes, she would even sing along.

When she first sang with me, I was so startled that I stopped altogether. Her voice, it was so beautiful, so raspy and rough, yet smooth and silky at the same time. It was mesmerising to say the least. It froze me in place and sent slivers up my spine. She didn't believe me when I told her though, but she still loved to sing with me.

We probably gave Rachel, and her daily 'Broadway show', a run for her money. In fact, I know we did. We rocked.

Slowly but surely, I began to see Santana again. In a split second when we danced together to the beat that only existed in our heads, when we lay together late at night, just watching each other, and whenever I could get her to sing to me. It was like a spark in her eye, lightning that stuck, quickly before disappearing and leaving darkness in its wake.

Not much else really happened for a while. There were no more challenges, and I was beginning to wonder why that was. Santana said that he had probably run out of ideas, I thought that he was building up for something.

I was right of course. Of course it wouldn't be as carefree as Santana's version. If only. Then again, we are nearing the end of mine and Santana's story, so maybe it was a good thing. Maybe… no, no it wasn't.

I woke on that faithful day to Santana's voice. Crystal clear and sharp against the silent darkness, it woke me quickly from my nightmares, for which I was thankful. I cracked my tired eyes open to rest them on her still form.

She sat up on the bed, her bare back to me, her skin glittering with the remnants of dirt and grime form the... two weeks of living in here. But she was beautiful. Like an angel ling on the bed, gracing me with her perfect presence. I often spent my time wondering why someone as… well perfect as her could have ended up like this.

'And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score'

I closed my eyes and let her voice wash over me like a tidal wave, taking any thought or worry with it. This is how I wanted to wake up every day. To such a sound like this.

'And I love you I love you I love you

Like never before, like never before

Like never before'

Santana let the last words hang in the air in place of the piano notes that I knew would follow. I heard her breathing even out and closed my eyes in case she turned to me. I know she didn't like me eavesdropping on her singing.

"I know you're awake…" she sighed out, a slight teasing note evident in her voice. My eyes remaining closed, I smiled up slightly. I heard the bed squeak and arms close around me from behind, her head on my shoulder.

"Britt-Britt?" she said quickly. I huffed to show that I was listening and she continued. "Do you… do you even think we'll get out of here?"

My eyes snapped open and I wiggled around so that I could face her. Her forehead was creased in worry, her big brown eyes filled with tears. My heart broke just a little bit right at that moment, but I didn't care. I just wanted to see her smile again.

I cuddled closer to her. "San, honey," she sighed, "I don't know. I can't know." I heard her whine slightly, but I don't think she meant to let it escape. I brushed back a stray hair behind her ear.

"But…" I said slowly, "I know that when we do get home, we're gonna be best friends. We're gonna live next to each other, eventually just moving in together to save the cost of two houses when we only use one. We're gonna help each other out when we're horny," I poked her in the side and she giggled. "And I'm gonna ask you to be my girlfriend after we dump whatever loser we're dating at the time."

I heard her draw a breath and went on. "You'll say yes of course, I'm pretty awesome." She laughed at my 'humour' and I smiled. "We'll get a dog and argue for ages over what to name it. I'll give in of course to get some hot make up sex."

Santana was grinned at my little vision of the future. And I have to admit, I liked it too. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on Santana that she was important, that I would need her. And I could only ever dream of getting her after going through this. But in a way, I was.

Santana nuzzled deeper into me, and I closed my eyes and let her warm body shield me from the dark. I really loved these moments; it was just her and me, no evil psycho trying to kill us, no dark rooms, no dead creatures, just us, alone and happy.

But those moments were always short lived, but still the highlight of my days.

We lay like that for what could have been hours, minutes or days, just lying together, not speaking or moving. Santana's breathing was even against my chest, and I kept mine matched with hers.

I think that was the moment I realised that, yes, I could be in love with her. It didn't shock me, it didn't even come as a surprise, but I knew it for sure at that moment.

I remember how I smiled, so full of life, my chest swelling with emotion that had nearly always been there, but now I let it flow free. I loved her. I loved Santana Maria Lopez.

I glanced down at her. She was asleep; her face unlined and relaxed, gone was the stress of her days, the horror of her life. I brushed her hair out of the way and smiled down at her. "I love you…" I trailed off and left it hanging in the air.

Suddenly I glanced to the roof at the camera's flashing light. My eyes narrowed. The dirty fucker was watching this, sharing in Santana's and my special moment. "You fucking bastard," I hissed, surprised by the venom in my own voice. I must have picked it up from Santana over time. I leaned over her to glare into the camera lens, keeping her hidden below me.

"When I get out of here I will kill you,"

With that, I lowered my body down onto Santana's, keeping her shielded and closed my eyes. I hoped to fall asleep quickly, and my wish was granted.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I woke an hour later, or so I guessed, by the sickly familiar sound of static. Santana, quickly awake, stiffened in my arms. I tightened my hold on her small body and rubbed a hand up and down her arm to sooth her. We could communicate so easily without words, it was phenomenal.

She relaxed under my touch and smiled weakly up at me, her dark eyes faded and tired. She was worn out by this, as was I. But we would escape it, if it was the last thing we would ever do.

The static cleared and I held my breath. "Hmmm," I heard him mutter to himself, "So, girls, I've been having a little trouble with you and your lack of entertainment, so I thought I would kick it up a notch." Santana whimpered as I did the same.

"I was planning to try this later if you were all still alive," I narrowed my eyes, "But since you girls aren't that scared and the police are creeping up fast, "Me and Santana had the air knocked out of us with hope, "I'm going to do this now."

"In the drawer there is another blade. It is small and blunt, but will work." I pulled out the small, slightly rusted, carpet cutter and examined it. "Now, there are the two of you still alive in both rooms, sooo…" He trailed off and I felt dread creeping up on me yet again.

"One of you must cut the other, drawing a good amount of blood, and then, well," I could feel his smirk. "Drink it."

Santana stiffened and I was afraid she had panicked too much and gone into shock.

I shook her slightly and she came back down to earth, breathing hard. "He, he wants… Britt, he wants-"

I cut her off quickly and hugged her tightly to my chest. "It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay," I wasn't sure if I was comforting her or myself. He wanted us to drink each other's blood? That's sick, beyond what I thought he was capable of. But, we had no choice. Like he said, it was this or starve.

The blade was tight in my hand, my knuckles pained as I gripped the handle. I couldn't hurt San, I just couldn't. I didn't have it in me, but I didn't know about her. She was broken, and showed it.

"San?" I asked slowly, willing her to speak again. "Santana?" She was staring down at the bed, her eyes downcast and her chest heaving. "What are we going to do now, S?"

Santana slowly lifted her head and stared at me, her brown eyes like dark pools of fire. But I knew she had nothing to say, no way of avoiding this besides staring to death. I sighed and dropped the cutter onto the bed, moving closer to Santana.

I cuddled up to her, supplying the warmth that we both needed. We didn't move, didn't do anything actually. We just sat there, unmoving, not speaking a word. I wondered what Quinn and Rachel were doing. Did they go through with it? I didn't know, nor did I fully want to anyway.

I don't know how much time passed, but we did nothing. I didn't even care. I didn't care that we would get no food. I didn't care that we could die because of it. I didn't care about myself anymore. I just couldn't hurt Santana.

I remember trying to figure out what she was thinking, but her face had been an emotionless mask, void of anything resembling humanity. But she made no move to lunge for the blade, so I like to assume she thought the same.

The day passed, or so we believed, and we had done nothing. Our fate was sealed, our lives lost. There would be living past this, it was over.

But it wasn't. No, I mean, how would I be telling you this if I had died there. Think about it.

But we starved. And it hurt more than I believed possible. It ate away at my insides, scalding me like lava. I knew Santana felt it too, the rumbles form her stomach often woke me at night.

It was torture like I had never believed, something I had always known was painful, but to this extent? I never had witnessed it. It was as if a million red hot pokers had pierced my stomach, stabbing me over and over again with fierce heat.

I could see my body changing as I lost weight. My bones became obvious, jutting out like pointed spears. It pained me to see Santana in the same condition. By looking at her, the pain in my body became worse.

Her cheekbones stood out against her skin, her eyes sunk and lifeless. Every bone, every muscle, everything showed through her clothes. It was horror to witness this perfection slowly fall to pieces in front of me. Her ribs jutted out so much, and she creaked and winced when she moved, as skin dragged across bone with no fat to help it.

It was cold in there. Our body heat was gone, and we were freezing. We cuddled together all day, having no energy or will to do anything but lie there, slowly but surely dying from lack of food and water.

I could feel myself slipping away some nights, but fought to remain in that shithole. I would only ever die to join Santana in the grave. That was my one remaining goal in life, die after her. I could never leave her to suffer alone.

It was on what I think was our fifth day of starvation that it happened. I woke to Santana wincing and withering in pain, clutching her stomach and howling. I was instantly awake and to her side, fumbling over her as I tried to help, but I could do nothing. I was too weak to even keep myself up.

I lay beside her that day, or night. I just lay there, wishing for her to be okay, praying that she would be. Santana was too tired to move, and I kept her as warm as I could, giving her any heat I possessed in my skeletal body.

But I knew what was happening; I knew I couldn't even stop it. Santana clung to me with everything she had left, tears escaping because she knew it too. She was weak, her breathing forced and difficult, her body shaking as she clung to life.

I didn't sleep that day; I couldn't wake to find her gone from this cold world. I could feel my own heart beating, my own breaths rattling my fragile ribs. And they were not synced to Santana's this time. No longer did we live in the same step, in the same world.

I kept her close to me as her breathing began to fade, becoming slower and slower. I fought back my tears and buried my head in her neck. She was drifting away slowly, and I was broken now.

I closed my own eyes and willed myself to follow her, begged my heart to give way to death. But I did not.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I remember waking from a light sleep. My head was spinning, my breathing slow. My vision was blurred but I could see figures. Light was pouring into the room, from the open doorway, spilling onto my body. Secondly, I noticed that I no longer held Santana in my arms.

I tried to sit up and find her, but I couldn't. Someone was hovering above me, talking to me, but I couldn't understand. I saw Santana's blurry outline on the floor, with several people over her, dressed in yellow and while jackets.

I didn't understand at the time, and tried to get up once again, get to her before more was done to violate her perfection.

"Clear!"

I heard someone yell out the words and Santana's body jerked up. I desperately tried to escape once again. "Santana…" I breathed out, my voice unfamiliar to me.

"It's okay. They're going to help her." The person holding me down spoke to me slowly, trying to calm me down. Something was attached to my wrist, it felt strange and alien.

My body couldn't take all of this; I glanced down at Santana's body once again before I blacked out once again.

"Clear!"

Xoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxoxoxox

When I woke, the light was too much for my eyes. I grunted and lofted a hand to cover my eyes, but it was held down.

"Brittany! You're awake." I opened and eye slowly and let it fall on a middle height woman with black straight hair, dressed in a white coat and a bright smile. I narrowed my eyes at her in confusion.

Quickly, she was at my side, holding a small cup of water to my dry lips. I swallowed it quickly, savouring the moisture. Water had never tasted so good as it did in that moment.

"Who are you?" I choked out, my throat still dry and raw. The woman smiled again.

"I'm your doctor, Tina. You were found by the police late Tuesday morning after they tracked a small Bluetooth device that Quinn Fabray carried with her." I smiled. I knew Quinn had something up her sleeve, but I didn't think it literally.

"Quinn and Rachel had kept the device going somehow, and they are both healthy and recovering in another room. Your captor was also caught and sentenced to life imprisonment."

Suddenly, a thought struck me. "Santana?"

"She's stable." I let out a breath at the words. "Doctors managed to get her back just in time. She's very lucky."

I smiled to myself and let my head rest back on the pillow. Everyone was right, and for the first time in weeks, I could relax.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxxo

I guess that's what happened. I kept my vision of the future, stuck to it pretty well actually. I live with Santana now, in a small house in the country. We are perfectly happy, and we speck of that time in private, just to help us through it.

We have been lucky. People don't judge us for what they saw on their televisions, most unplugged them anyway. We have found real friends, people to care about us. We even stayed close with Quinn and Rachel, the latter is about to release a show on Broadway actually. We have tickets booked.

I'll never get over what happened to us back then. But I don't fear it. I got out of it. I survived it. It changed me, but I don't hate the new me. The new me has a girlfriend that she loves, friends, a home. I found love.

**A/N Hey, tell me what you think! Pleaseeee, I love reviews. Review my twisted mind or I sent the evil… captor after you! XD no, I won't. BTW I had a nightmare about my own fanfic because of this, I had a nightmare about a thing I created! **

**OK, so please review, it means the world to me. **

**-S**


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